Lily, You're Going to Get Sick
by HermioneGirl96
Summary: What if Lily passionately hated getting sick, and James found out? What if he wasn't a jerk about it, but actually tried to take care of her? Sixth year, James's POV. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: Sadly for me, I don't own Harry Potter.**

I stumbled on it the first time. I definitely hadn't been expecting to discover something fundamental to Lily's identity that day when we both stayed after class finishing our Herbology assignment in Greenhouse Seven. I thought I already knew Lily about as well as I was going to—after all, we'd been in the same house at Hogwarts for five-and-a-bit years now—and I wasn't expecting anything to change that particular afternoon.

The important thing was that it was freezing cold and pouring buckets. Lily and I were the last two to leave the greenhouse; even Professor Sprout had gone up before us, and she'd left Lily in charge of locking up. As Lily and I stepped outside, we were both instantly drenched. Lucky for me, I could transfigure one of my quills into an umbrella, which I did immediately, before I got too wet. I expected Lily to use a water-repelling charm or a heating charm, or something. She took out her wand, waved it a bunch, pointed it at herself, muttered several spells, and then looked at me in horror.

I was unaccustomed to seeing Lily Evans panic. "What's wrong?" I shouted above the roar of the wind and the rush of the rain.

"I—I can't—" she yelled back. I don't know if she lacked the words to describe the horrors of not being able to perform a spell, or if she didn't want to admit a weakness to me, or what, but she didn't elaborate on what it was she couldn't do.

I looked at her standing there, red hair already in dripping, limp, stringy ribbons from the rain, robe soaked, bag probably drenched (along with the book inside it)—and I could see she was absolutely miserable. "Here—Evans," I shouted, moving closer to her with a measure of trepidation. "You can share my umbrella."

"I'm already soaked, Potter," she replied, and there was a note I didn't recognize in her voice. It was almost like hatred, except that it didn't seem to be really directed at me.

"Evans, you're going to get sick if you walk up to the castle in this rain without an umbrella or anything," I told her. In the back of my mind, I was wondering why she couldn't perform a water-repelling charm. Charms was Lily's best subject; if she couldn't do something as simple as repel water, something was already seriously wrong.

To my surprise, Lily cringed at the word _sick_. "I know!" she shrieked, and there was definite panic in her voice.

It was killing me to see her this unhappy. I shouldn't take advantage of her when she was so miserable and scared. If she wouldn't share my umbrella, then I'd make a new one. I took out a second quill and transfigured it into an umbrella, which I handed to her.

Lily's eyes widened. "Thanks, Potter," she said, sounding surprised. She turned and started the long walk up toward the castle.

"Evans, wait!" I called after her.

Lily spun around to face me, water spraying in all directions as her hair whipped around her head. "To save you the trouble of asking the question, _no_, I won't go out with you, and, if that's the only reason you gave me this bloody umbrella, then you can take it back!" She threw the umbrella at me and started for the castle once more.

I picked up the umbrella she'd thrown and ran to catch up with her—or rather, jogged. The stone steps of the path were far too slippery for all-out sprinting. Still, I caught her within 30 seconds; there were advantages to being six inches taller than the girl I was chasing. When I reached her, I was able to see that she was shivering violently. "Evans, hang on. I wasn't going to ask you out. I was going to offer to use a drying charm on you. I mean, you're completely soaked. You could still easily get sick, just from staying wet and cold like this all the way up to the castle."

Once again, Lily cringed at the word _sick_, but she accepted the umbrella that I handed back to her. I took out my wand and used a drying charm on her, followed by a heating charm. She steamed slightly as all of the moisture left her, but she looked a lot happier once she was warm and dry.

I realized that I had used neither charm on myself, and I remedied that. It did feel really nice to be dry and warm.

"Thanks, Potter," Lily said as she and I started for the castle once again. I noticed for the first time that she sounded really stuffed up, like she had a bad cold. Maybe that was why she couldn't do basic charms? Being sick did hurt one's magical abilities. But charms! Charms were Lily's strong point! How sick would she have to be to fail a water-repelling charm?

Beside me, Lily sneezed and sniffled miserably.

"Are you all right, Evans?" I asked, worried. What was wrong with her? Was it just a cold? She couldn't do _charms_! What if something was seriously the matter?

"No!" she wailed. "Mary said I should skip class today—she was right, but—we're going to get tested on this material, so I—couldn't just miss it!" Her words were punctuated by sniffles. Even so, being sick wasn't that big a deal. It was just something that happened . . . right?

"Should I take you to the hospital wing?" I asked.

Lily shrugged and muttered, "Merlin, I _hate_ being sick." There was a venom in her tone that, from the time I'd met her until now, she'd reserved only for Sirius and me. I realized this wasn't an idle complaint; Lily only used _hate_ when she meant it.

"It'll be all right, Evans," I told her. "Madame Pomfrey can give you some Pepperup Potion and you'll be all right in a couple hours."

Lily didn't reply; it seemed that being sick made her even more moody than usual. I didn't try to make conversation; I was walking beside Lily, and I figured I'd have to be content with that.

"We're going to the hospital wing," I announced authoritatively when Lily and I reached the castle. Lily didn't argue, but she didn't seem particularly enthusiastic about following me. When we arrived, I asked Madame Pomfrey for some Pepperup Potion for Lily. She took one look at the two of us, noticed Lily's somewhat glassy eyes, and bustled away to get a steaming goblet of potion.

"Where are you two coming from?" she asked conversationally as Lily drank the potion.

"The greenhouses," I answered. "It's raining like crazy."

"You both look dry enough. Should I thank Miss Evans's brilliant charms work?"

"She's usually amazing at charms," I admitted, "but today, this is my doing."

"She let you near her with a wand?" Madame Pomfrey asked me, sounding very surprised.

I shrugged. "It took some convincing, but yeah. She couldn't manage it herself, so there wasn't a very good alternative."

Madame Pomfrey's eyebrows shot up. "You couldn't manage _charms_?" She addressed the question to Lily.

Lily shook her head miserably.

"Good Merlin, dear, you're supposed to come see me _days_ before an illness saps all of your magic! Get in bed, _now_. Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. Diseases this potent tend to be rather contagious."

"Why didn't you come here earlier?" I hissed at Lily.

"I hate . . . admitting I'm sick, and seeing all the sick people, and . . . I just hate it, okay, Potter?" she hissed back.

I looked at Lily in confusion. She was so logical most of the time—well, except when it came to Snivellus—and this just made no sense.

"Mr. Potter, if you could leave, please?" Madame Pomfrey prompted.

On my way out, I shouted, "So, will you go out with me, Evans?"

"Not on your life, Potter!" she yelled back, and then sneezed very loudly.

I sighed. It had been worth a shot. But I wanted her to know that I actually did care about how she felt; I wasn't _just _trying to win her over. "Well, feel better anyway! Let me know if you change your mind! But even if you don't, still feel better!"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Potter."

**A/N: Reviews and favorites are lovely!**


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